


'Cause, Baby, I Could Build a Castle

by felicityremarkablesmoak (lookatallthemoresigive), Frea_O



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Dream Sex, F/F, Fingerfucking, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Weirdness, salmon ladder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 10:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4825730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookatallthemoresigive/pseuds/felicityremarkablesmoak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frea_O/pseuds/Frea_O
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, there wasn’t really a casual way to bring up to your teammate that hey there, nice job taking down those criminals with that super impressive body slam, and by the way I think we’re having shared sex dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Cause, Baby, I Could Build a Castle

**Author's Note:**

> This is [PuzzledHats'](http://puzzledhat.tumblr.com) fault. Completely inspired by her awesome [_inside your head_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2092407) story. And no, the rating wasn't a mistake.
> 
> Title courtesy of Taylor Swift's amazing _New Romantics_.

As far as sex dreams go, Felicity’s first sex dream about Laurel was pretty run of the mill. Random bedroom, no lead-up, just them, a comfortable bed, and a miraculous lack of clothes.

Honestly, the weirdest part is how detailed the room was for a dream. She could see the funky giraffe lamp on the right side of the bed, and the lilac paint chipped a tiny bit on the wall to her left. Though really, the only reason she noticed was because Laurel was slowly kissing her way up her stomach and it was a bit of sensory overload, forcing her to look away and try to focus on anything that wasn’t the Black Canary. Laurel finally had the decency (though nothing about this was decent) to reach her chest, and Felicity let out a moan. Then Laurel started swirling her tongue and Felicity—

Felt her head pounding, a familiar noise jamming into her skull. She finally rolled over and turned off her alarm. She rolled back and covered her face with a pillow, groaning.

Later, during an unusually cold morning shower, Felicity decided that her dream was unsurprising due to the fact she was constantly surrounded by incredibly attractive people with no body modesty in what could be—and had been—mistaken for a weird sex dungeon. She’d had plenty of dreams about Oliver and hell, even one about Roy. Just because she had a couple about Sara and now one about Laurel didn’t mean she was gay, it just meant she had eyes. The only surprise, really, that it had taken so long after Laurel joining the fold for it to happen.

Afterward she had similar dreams every couple of weeks or so, but they were nearly identical: same room, same partner, same stopping before it got to the good part, though it seemed that each dream became more frantic than the previous, as if desperate to finally reach a base that was a little less PG-13. Felicity wasn’t too worried. They were just dreams, after all.

 

*

 

Very real dreams. That never stopped. Maybe she _might_ be a little gayer than she thought. But at least they were only dreams.

 

*

 

Felicity fought past her panic as a pale Laurel refused her plea to open her eyes. She was still breathing, Felicity could feel her heartbeat, but couldn’t hear it as her own seemed to drown everything else out, even her own voice. She looked around the room wildly, trying to find some clue as to what could have done this. When her eye caught an open door, she froze.

“Felicity, status report! Felicity! What the hell is going on in there?”

“Laurel—they got to her. It must not have taken effect until she got home. I’ll bring her back.” Felicity hoped her voice wasn’t trembling too much.

“ _We’ll_ bring her back,” Diggle said, and Felicity felt a large, comforting hand on her shoulder. She did her best to smile up at him, but he was already prowling, searching the apartment. After finding nothing, he picked Laurel up in a fireman’s carry back to his car, Felicity trailing behind him. She babbled on about nothing on the drive back to the Foundry, not even listening to herself. She blocked everything out except her tablet, running searches on Laurel’s state and what they knew of the Cluemaster. The open door could wait until Laurel was awake and after she had thoroughly kicked the villainous creep’s ass.

Of course, Laurel came to on the table, gasping and clinging to Felicity’s arm, and she forgot the open door for a little while. In fact, Cluemaster ran them so ragged that she didn’t think of it for days. And the next time it crossed her mind, she was asleep and back to the regular sex dream.

“Laurel?” Felicity managed in between gasps.

“Mmm?” Laurel was kissing down her neck and seemed a lot more interested in the noises Felicity was making than answering questions.

“Is—are we—where are we?”

“My bedroom, duh.” Laurel seemed annoyed with the dumb question.

 _Oh, how obvious_. Whatever tiny part of Felicity’s brain that could function managed to think. _Wonder why I even asked._

“It’s—it’s nice. Very classy place to continually have sex, or almost have sex.” She broke off with a moan. Where the hell had Laurel learned to do that with her tongue? Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head until she spotted the anomaly. “What’s with the wall?”

“Little busy.” Laurel’s hand crept down her side. “But if you must know—” and she kissed her way up Felicity’s jaw. “—I’m getting a painting delivered.”

This was such a weird thing to talk about in a sex dream, Felicity thought. Luckily, before she could go on, babbling about anything, Laurel decided to leave Felicity’s ravaged neck in favor of her mouth. She bit down on Felicity’s lip, then darted her tongue out to—

Felicity opened her eyes and sat up in her own bed, breathing heavily.

“What the fuck?”

 

*

 

Sure, talking in the dreams, that was new...ish. Okay, not that new. She talked a lot. It was kind of her thing. But even for her, that was a bit excessive. So Felicity took her normal cold shower, showed up for work, reported in for duty at the Foundry, and didn’t think about the dream at all.

That was, until she passed Laurel trotting up the stairs to the Foundry as she headed down. “No patrols tonight?” she asked, her stomach jumping only a little.

“Nope. Expecting a delivery at home. Think you can hold down the fort?” Laurel’s eyes practically twinkled.

“I’m sure Starling City can manage _one_ night without the Canary,” Felicity said, smiling back. “But we’ll pretend it’s difficult, to make you feel better.”

Laurel chuckled.

“Hey, what’s the delivery?” Felicity asked as Laurel reached the door to the Foundry.

“Sara sent over a painting. Come over some time, check it out. She promises it’s amazing.” With a final dazzling smile, Laurel headed out.

Felicity, on the other hand, sat down hard.

“What the _fuck_?” she asked, for the second time that day.

 

*

 

The next dream didn’t happen for three days, but there it was, right on the wall. Sara hadn’t lied: it was as amazing as promised.

Not quite as amazing as the sound Laurel made when Felicity, fully freaked out now, flipped her over onto her back and trailed her lips down her breastbone.

But still: _amazing_.

 

*

 

Honestly, there wasn’t really a casual way to bring up to your teammate that hey there, nice job taking down those criminals with that super impressive body slam, and by the way I think we’re having shared sex dreams.

Especially when said teammate thinks that you’re straighter than a ruler and that you hate them because you like their ex.

Felicity had gone over the plan multiple times, and it was the best one they had at this point, especially since everyone naysayed any explosions. Killjoys. Their target had basically holed up in their club, which left them no choice but this frankly terrible plan. If she believed in hell, this would be it.

Felicity, she told herself sternly, woman the hell up. It is 2:30 am and Team Arrow is counting on you, you don’t have time for your gay crisis.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Laurel asked her as they stood outside the Clam Digger, looking like she desperately wanted to be in her suit and out of her red cocktail dress.

“No, it’s your first undercover mission. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, you’ve had practice. Not that you’ve had practice practice because it’s a gay bar or—I mean you _might_ have, but that’s totally not my business. It’s just I’ve had to do this before and really it’s just like being on a terrible date where you have to do suck it up and smile long enough for you to dash into the bathroom and out the window—though I totally wouldn’t do that to you, but the metaphor stands.”

Laurel looked at her weirdly. “Uh, thanks, Felicity?”

“Any time. I mean it’s more or less like kissing someone—not that we have to kiss or anything, I mean we should probably just hold hands unless you want to—shutting up! My mouth is going to stop moving right, now.”

“Well, speaking of mouths, fair warning that I use tongue. Would you be okay with that?”

Felicity miraculously managed to keep in a comment about how well-versed they were in that department and forced herself to nod. “Sure, I’ll just follow your lead.”

Laurel winked at her and wrapped a hand around her waist, and off they went.

_Fuck you, universe._

 

*

 

“Whoa,” Felicity panted as Laurel had her pinned against her desk, attacking her neck. “This is even better than—”

Laurel reached up and swallowed the rest of her words (though they echoed off the walls of the empty Foundry), her tongue working against Felicity’s mouth and suddenly she couldn’t remember what her own name was, let alone what she was going to say. It was probably for the best. This whole situation was unbelievable enough without involving shared sex dreams.

 

*

 

During the week Felicity was convinced they were all going to die (the third in as many years), she mercifully got no sex dreams about Laurel. Indeed, it seemed like her subconscious was trying to help her out for once, suppressing all memories of her and the Foundry.

Fate could never be so kind for long, and after the dust cleared Laurel seemed to come to Felicity more often now for tech advice. Even worse, sometimes it felt like she was flirting with her. But Felicity was just imagining things, obviously. What they had was just we’re going to die and you’re the only one else here sex. Laurel, gorgeous Laurel, strong Laurel, amazing Laurel, couldn’t feel the same way about her.

Felicity was not surprised when the sex dreams come back in full force.

She gasped as Laurel sucked on the soft spot under her ear, Laurel’s hands roaming and kneading her body. “You’ve been, uh, rather, eager lately.”

“You rather I wasn’t?” Laurel _purred_ , and it would really be nice if she would stop being so good at this so they could have a conversation without Felicity’s brain turning to mush.

“Shouldn’t you be telling me to back off, to stop imagining this? Cause wow, my imagination is reaching bad porno levels in the best way.”

Felicity could feel Laurel’s grin as she bit down hard on her neck. If only Laurel’s mirror wasn’t in the bathroom, then she could finally see one of the hundreds of hickeys Laurel had left her collectively. She never would, though. It seemed a little ironic, the marks of possession never being seen by anyone. Maybe they were in Tartarus, serving out the weirdest punishment ever.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Felicity. Not here.” Laurel’s hand had finally reached her center. “Now please don’t wa—”

 _You ought to kick and scream, for every fallen dream_ —

Felicity screamed into her pillow. Then she took a calming breath and put on her glasses. Roy never called her this early unless it was an emergency. It seemed like her unfinished business would be low on the list of priorities for the foreseeable future.

Even more than that finals week where she got a collective five hours of sleep, Felicity couldn’t wait until she could climb back into bed and go to sleep.

 

*

 

“You need to stay asleep.”

“Wh—what are you talking about?” Felicity asked, since it was kind of difficult to speak with Laurel sucking on that spot on her neck that always made her squirm. “I’m not asleep.”

“Uh-huh.” Laurel clamped down gently with her teeth, and Felicity moaned. When she would have arched up, though, Laurel was there, fingers wrapped so tightly around her biceps that it should leave bruises.

It never left a mark.

“I’m not,” Felicity said, dragging her nails down the back of Laurel’s tank top. Why Laurel always started these encounters fully dressed while Felicity was buck naked, she had no idea. She plucked at the fabric in frustration. “You should take this off.”

“Uh-huh,” Laurel said again, but she only continued to lavish attention on that spot on Felicity’s neck, sucking and nipping and drawing every sensation out of a square patch of what felt like exposed nerve endings until Felicity wanted to scream.

All of that boxing training, all of those long nights of vigilantism, it had provided her with an almost supernatural amount of patience. And incredible flexibility, and Felicity was seeing more of the former than the latter, which was frustrating. They didn’t have time for this, she knew. Any second, it would all be over and she’d be back in her bed, horny and out of breath. Instead of here, pinned to Laurel’s mattress where currently Laurel was sending them both to hell in the most delicious way possible.

So when Laurel took a breath, Felicity struck, using a move Diggle had taught her to flip their positions. Laurel’s back hit the mattress with a hard thump, but all she did was laugh and give Felicity a smug look, shifting around to settle in more comfortably. “Nice moves. That’s a new one. You should show me that one again.”

“We don’t have time,” Felicity said, shoving up the front of Laurel’s tank top. She raked the skin underneath with her nails and kissed her way along the red trails they left as Laurel struggled to get the tank top over her head. The fact that Laurel’s breath caught made her own heart beat a little faster and her clit throb. “We never have enough time.”

“Then stay asleep. It’s not rocket science.”

“I’m not asleep,” Felicity said, and rocked her hips hard against Laurel’s.

Laurel gasped.

“What I am,” Felicity said, swirling her tongue around Laurel’s nipple, “is ready for you to fuck me already, but since you’re taking your sweet time about it, I guess I’ll just have to show you. By fucking you. Not, like, fucking myself or anything unless you’re into that.”

“I thought—” Laurel broke off to moan as Felicity kissed her way down her stomach. “I thought you nerds liked your foreplay.”

“We have had months of foreplay.” Her hands were shaking with impatience and need, so Felicity just grabbed the hem of Laurel’s pajama pants and yanked rather than bothering with finesse. She stroked Laurel with a finger. God, she was wet. “Months. I am going to go crazy because I have been trying to imagine how you taste—” She added a second finger. “—and all you want to do is suck on my neck.”

“I want to suck on all of you, to be fair. You just go craziest when I touch your neck.” Laurel groaned and kicked her pajamas off so that she was finally and gloriously naked. She propped herself up on her elbows, face flushed, hair tousled, and Felicity’s heart kicked once. “But I’ll be the bigger person and let you get on with it since you’re so insistent.”

“Let me? Look at you, you’re practically begging.”

“I am n—” Laurel moaned when Felicity, never breaking eye contact, finally lowered her mouth to her pussy. Just a single swipe of her tongue and Laurel’s head fell back. “Never mind. If you do that again, I will definitely beg.”

She’d studied the technique. You could practically find anything on the internet and she knew it had always been there, but before these regular sex dreams, she’d been too afraid to even look. But it was different now. She wanted to drive Laurel absolutely insane, to push her to that shaky, weak-kneed place she always seemed to leave Felicity in every night. She bit down on the inside of Laurel’s thigh.

“Oh, fuck.” Laurel’s gasp this time was a lot higher pitched.

Felicity sucked sharply, just once, and felt Laurel’s legs wrap around her head, her heels drumming into Felicity’s back. She laughed and pried her thighs apart to save her ears. She ran her fingers gently over Laurel’s knee.

Laurel squirmed.

“Oh my god, you’re ticklish. The Black Canary is _ticklish_ ,” Felicity said, lifting her head to keep from getting her nose broken. Why this was the most delightful news she’d ever come across when the bottom half of her face was damp from Laurel, she had no idea. But it made her grin as she dove back in, swirling her tongue over Laurel’s pussy.

With every stroke of her tongue, Laurel made a new noise and writhed about. And Felicity’s own clit began to throb, at first delicious torture and then actively painful. Sweat popped up all over her skin, but she clamped down on her own needs and focused every breath and movement on driving Laurel close to climax and evilly pulling back.

Until Laurel was trembling all over, her hands wrapped around the slats in her headboard. “Felicity,” she said, the word somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “Felicity, please—”

Felicity, feeling a little desperate herself, immediately circled Laurel’s clit with her tongue. Once, twice, and then Laurel gasped once more, coming in a rush. Felicity wiped her face on the sheet and crawled up. Laurel shuddered even as she tugged Felicity close, just holding on while she came down from the orgasm.

“Better?” Felicity said. She had no idea why she was whispering since they were obviously alone in Laurel’s bedroom.

“Better would be an understatement.” Laurel bit Felicity’s earlobe, dragging her teeth over the shell of her ear. “God, you are good at that.”

“Quick study.” She was going to explode at any second, especially with the way Laurel had returned her attention to her neck. “Also you’d be amazed at what you can find online. Not that I watch a lot of porn—well, okay I watch some porn—but not like a crazy amount or…oh, god, please never stop doing that with your tongue. But I am a quick study.”

Laurel rolled over on top of her and slid her hand down Felicity’s abdomen, to her center. “Nobody likes a show-off.”

“That’s a lie,” Felicity said, bucking against Laurel’s palm. She was amazed she was even capable of speech with the way pleasure was threatening to short-circuit her entire body. Every single place Laurel was touching her felt like it was on fire. She might spontaneously combust at any second, but she never wanted it to stop, never wanted Laurel to go anywhere.

Laurel rubbed a single finger down the entire length of her pussy and Felicity keened.

“What do you mean by that?” Laurel said, trailing sloppy kisses up Felicity’s collarbone as she added a second finger.

“By—by what?”

“You said I’m lying when I said nobody likes a show-off.”

Felicity groaned. How could Laurel even focus on words right now, when she was slowly and meticulously bringing Felicity to pieces. How? What were they even—oh, right. “You are lying. If nobody likes a show-off, then how come we all adore you?”

Laurel crooked her fingers in Felicity’s pussy and she nearly screamed. “I’m not a show-off. Nobody adores me.”

Felicity arched up against her as Laurel’s fingers scissored right against her core. Why was she laughing? Oh, right. “The Black Canary. Not a show-off. Right. You’re a liar twice over because you are a show-off and I love you, so—”

Laurel’s fingers jerked again. Felicity, absolutely sure she was about to go mad unless Laurel kissed her right _now_ , cupped Laurel’s cheeks in her hands. Belatedly, she realized that Laurel’s eyes had gone absolutely wide.

“What?” Felicity said, breathless. “Why did you stop with the—”

“You love me?”

“God, yes, now please—”

“Do you mean it or are you saying that because I have my hand up your pussy?”

“You keep telling me this is a dream, right?” Felicity bucked insistently against Laurel’s hand. “I can tell the truth in a dream. I love you, now will you please just—”

“R-right.” But Laurel still looked a bit dazed for a second. Then a grin slowly spread over her face and mercifully she hooked her fingers again, making Felicity shudder. She placed the lightest kiss on Felicity’s chin, absolutely at odds with the filthy things her hand was doing. “You can come any time you like, just so you know. You don’t have politely wait for my hand to cramp.”

In any situation, Felicity might have been a little embarrassed by how hard and how quickly the orgasm hit, right on command. Sparks exploded at the edge of her vision and she screamed. When sense returned, she was aware of Laurel’s face nuzzled into her neck, just as sweaty as hers. She lay there, panting and quivering, as Laurel stroked her hair.

The urgency was gone. She had no idea why. She never wanted to leave and part of her knew she would have to, though she didn’t know why. But there wasn’t the desperation, there wasn’t a stopwatch. She drifted, twining the fingers of her left hand through Laurel’s and stroking her arm with her other hand.

“Hmm?” She felt Laurel’s lips against that spot on her neck, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“Yeah?” Her voice sounded rusty.

“I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” A breathless sort of pleasure, completely different from anything Laurel had been doing to her only moments before, filled her chest. Felicity rolled over onto her side, toward Laurel, and finally opened her eyes.

A patch of sunlight lay where Laurel had been instants before. She felt phantom warmth where Laurel had been wrapped around her, but she was alone. In her own bed.

It had all been a dream.

 

*

 

“You know what, screw this,” Felicity decided a couple of days later, when she and Laurel were the only ones left in the Foundry.

“Huh?” Laurel asked, most of her attention still focused on the top rung of the salmon ladder. She’d finally reached it after months of trying.

Yes, months. Felicity had watched the entire time.

She walked over and tapped against the ladder as she waited for Laurel to safely get herself down.

“What’s up?” Laurel wiped her face with her towel, chest heaving, and Felicity forced her eyes up front and took a deep breath.

“We should coffee. I mean we should uh, go get coffee now, because it is late, and we have to be up in three hours, and so we should do it together. Not it, coffee. Have coffee.”

Laurel’s smile made Felicity’s mortification at her own word vomit worth it. “I’d love to, Felicity. Let me go change.”

The next night was the only time the location in their dream ever changed. The salmon ladder definitely added to the hotness factor, she definitely felt. But then, everybody knew that had been her thing all along. Felicity was just surprised it took that long to show up in the dreams.

 

*

 

It was a couple of weeks into their relationship when Felicity finally worked up the courage to bring up her theory to Laurel, and even then she was pretty sure she was just going to laugh at her.

“It makes perfect sense” was not at all what Felicity expected her to say, but she definitely didn’t hallucinate those words, as Laurel nodded to herself.

“You did hear me say the words _shared sex dreams_ , right? Because in my world that should not make sense.”

“Barry can run faster than the speed of sound, and Malcolm Merlyn is still alive. Your world has a lot of legroom for the unbelievable,” Laurel stated simply, and Felicity rolled her eyes. “Besides, I think I might have an explanation for our dreams.”

“Oh, please share with the jury. Have we both been eating mint chip before bed or did that pollen—”

“Maybe we’ve been around enough weird that the weird’s starting to rub off on us. Maybe my subconscious was reaching out to you Jane Eyre-style, and it, uh, connected us.”

“But why would it connect it us that way—unless it needed a common dream ground and that just so happened to be me, you, and an enjoyably small amount of clothes.”

“More or less.”

“So,” Felicity’s voice was uncharacteristically small. “Does that mean you liked me before all this happened?”

“Eh.” Laurel shrugged. “There was this other hot blonde genius vigilante helping hacker that I had my eye on, but I guess you’ll do.”

“Jerk,” Felicity said, but she was smiling. 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“I do!” She dive-bombed Laurel and tickled her, and the tickling led to round two of a very different sort.

 

*

 

“Didn’t we agree to cool it while you went off tagging along on Nyssa’s roaring rampage of revenge?” Felicity panted as Laurel made a tortuously slow ascent up her thighs. Laurel stopped her ministrations and laid her chin on Felicity’s stomach, grinning.

“We did. But this is just a dream, right?” Laurel ran her fingers up the length of Felicity’s body and Felicity’s brain did the sensible thing and melted.

“Totally. Keep going,” she managed to get out, and Laurel was only too happy to comply.

 

*

 

“So, I actually had this really cool idea for a device,” Cisco said as they were out to lunch one day, having decided on an impromptu vacation to sunny Central City. Felicity did her best to pay attention and not focus on how Laurel was playing with her fingers under the table. “So what if there was this device that let people share dreams, like nightmares and normal dreams and sex dreams? I’ve already made one to view people’s dreams, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

“No!” Laurel and Felicity said in unison.

Cisco raised an eyebrow.

“It’s too ridiculous, and there’d be no use for it. Like, how would it even work? Who gets to decide what dream they’re in?”

“I think you should stick to the tech that saves lives, Cisco,” Laurel said in a much calmer voice than Felicity’s panicked verbal sprint.

“Okay, party poopers. I think it could have been really fun to make.”

Felicity and Laurel exchanged a look. “Trust us, it’s better off not existing.”

 

*

To be honest, she actually wasn’t surprised that it happened in a dream. It had been a mistake to even let the thought cross her mind, and then her mouth galloped off without her. And Laurel’s shocked look, her smile, the happy scream as she tackled Felicity back onto the mattress—well, all of that made everything worth it.

And when they woke up, wrapped around each other, the ring was a reality. She’d thought that far ahead, at least.

 

*

 

“You know, I’m super bummed that we don’t get our shared sex dreams anymore, as I would totally hop into bed and dream rock your damn world right now,” Laurel said, admiring her engagement ring for the 400th time that day, even though they were pretty sure it was the cause of the cessation of the dreams altogether.

Felicity sputtered, and Laurel raised an eyebrow, her smirk obvious even though it was distorted a bit due to Skype’s fussiness. “It’s probably for the best. I was beginning to think we were crazy. And besides, having sex 24/7 is probably not healthy.”

“Lots of sex is better than no sex when we’re countries apart,” Laurel said, clutching her chest. “I’m all alone in my time of need.”

“Hey, you agreed to go with Sara on a sibling bonding mission, not me. Don’t worry, Black Canary, I’ll probably be coming to save you from whatever mess you two will make soon. I love you.”

“I love you too. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Me either.”

“Oh no, Sara should be back any minute. I’ll save you the I-totally-knew-it smirks and passive aggressive maid of honor comments. Talk to you in sixteen hours?”

“Of course. I love you, goodbye.”

“Love you too, bye!”

Watching Laurel’s face be replaced with the Skype home screen, Felicity smiled to herself. She didn’t need dreams to tell her something she already knew: Laurel was with her, always.

 

 

 


End file.
